


Through Every Forest

by Claire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Possessive!Chris, Pre-Relationship, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5390786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which hunters take Peter, and Chris objects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Every Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Although there is no actual non-con in here, there is the threat of it.

The door to the apartment is barely closed behind Chris before he's fumbling at his jeans, pulling his hard cock out and wrapping his fingers around it. He's been straining behind his jeans since he dropped Peter back at the loft, since he texted Derek to tell him he'd found Peter, and that his uncle was currently doped up and unconscious in his bed.

And Chris knows he should have stayed, but he wasn't prepared for the looks he would have got from the wolves once they'd all gotten back.

_"Damn, that wolf is one pretty bitch."_

They hadn't even realised Peter had been taken, at first. Not until Stiles had shown up for the pack meeting, asking where Peter was because he had a question on one of the texts he'd borrowed from him.

_"But his car's parked downstairs."_

They'd all gone down, and even though the marks hadn't been visible at first from the angle the car was parked, it was obvious that the gouges along the driver's side door were from Peter's claws. According to the wolves, there'd been the scent of aconite and gun oil, and Chris had known that the hunters he'd seen in town the previous day certainly hadn't _just been passing through._

_"We'll be out of here before you know it, Argent."_

They'd split up to search the places they'd thought the group would take Peter. Split up between the factory district with its disused warehouses, and the motel on the edge of town where you can pay by the hour and no one asks any questions. Between each corner of the preserve and its miles and miles of forest.

_"Call if you find them. These are trained hunters, and they've already grabbed Peter. Do not take them on alone."_

It's Chris who finds them, on a road leading into the preserve. Night's fallen enough that they need the headlights from one of their trucks to light the clearing, shining on just enough of an angle to illuminate the bound and unconscious Peter in the back of the other SUV. And he's not surprised they were in only the second place he looked. Allison may take solace in her friends, in calling herself pack, but Chris is still a hunter, still looks at a place and works out where to hide the bodies, how to take a wolf down without being seen.

_"Do it again, Christopher. For god's sake, you're an Argent, and I won't have a son of mine failing at something as simple as tracking."_

There are take-out bags littering the clearing, empty cans next to them. And Chris wonders who taught these men, wonders if they think this is a game that can be played with burgers and beer. There's a tranq gun next to one of the men, and Chris suddenly understands exactly how they took Peter down, how they took down the most dangerous wolf in the pack.

But even if they got Peter, they didn't escape unscathed. The bandages around the arm of one of them, bright white with spots of blood already leaking through, tell their own story of Peter's claws.

But the story they don't tell, the words they don't speak, is why Peter, why Beacon Hills. He knows what some of the hunter community think of him. There are those whose views align more with Gerard, who think all wolves should just be put down like rabid dogs. Those who think that Chris went off the deep end, lost his mind and dragged Allison, the new Argent matriarch, down with him.

But there's been no price put on Peter, no bounty on any of the Hale wolves or those in their pack. Regardless of what some people think of him, Chris still has enough friends out there that he'd hear if trouble was heading to his town. And if this was just about bagging a random wolf, Peter would have been killed and cut in half before Chris had ever found them.

_"Can't believe we got him. The big bad wolf who killed Kate Argent."_

There are more words after that. Praise for Kate's viciousness, for Gerard's vision. Boasts that they're going to be famous for taking out the wolf who took down Kate Argent. And it all comes down to bragging rights.

_"We don't have to kill him straight away, though, right?"_

Chris wonders why the change, wonders why the conversation shifts from talk of taking photos of Peter's body once it's done to suddenly wanting to draw it out. He wonders right until one of the group stands up, a hand drifting down to their crotch and rubbing over the denim there.

And Chris has been there. The fight over, and the adrenaline still running through him. The scent of blood in the air, so thick you don't need to be a wolf to smell it. He's stood over creatures with his gun hot and his cock hard in his jeans. He had nights where he took down one monster and Vicky took down another, and they never even made it back to whichever shitty motel they were staying in before she was riding him. So Chris understands. It doesn't stop him from wanting to kill them.

He closes his eyes as the words wash over him. Crude and harsh and slightly slurred as they all talk about what it would be like to fuck a wolf, about how it's not like Peter could stop them. Words about how they want to see if wolves really do run hot, and how tightly Peter's ass would hug their cocks.

_"Probably already had Argent up his ass. Would explain why he went native, if he's fucking one of them."_

Only, he hasn't. He _hasn't._ Even if he wants to. Even if he looks at Peter and wants to bend the wolf over every surface, wants to fuck him and mark him and send him out wearing Chris' claim for all to see. Because there's something about Peter Hale that makes Chris want to put him on his knees. To see him choking on Chris' dick, using his mouth for something other than the scorn that normally drips from his lips.

Hearing these _interlopers_ talking about coming into Chris' territory, talking about fucking his wolf, makes Chris flush hot, the anger and possessiveness sitting low in his stomach. One of them is laughing, grabbing his crotch and saying how deep he's going to plant his load in Peter. 

And all Chris can think is that none of them are going to get their dicks anywhere near Peter; that Peter's his. That if anyone's come is going to mark up Peter, then it's going to be Chris'.

He watches as they walk over to the truck, as they manhandle the still unconscious Peter out of the back. It takes two of them to carry the unresponsive wolf over to where the fire is, the other grabbing what looks like a rolled up sleeping bag and dropping it to the ground.

It puts Peter's ass at a perfect angle when he's laid down over it, and Chris shifts slightly to relieve some of the pressure against his cock from where he's straining against his jeans. Because this is Peter how Chris has imagined him more than once. This is Peter face down and spread out, and about to take a cock up his tight ass.

And part of Chris is telling him to stay his hand as one of the hunters steps up, his hands at his belt, and crude commentary coming from him, about how he's going to rip Peter's ass open with his fat dick. Because there's a part of Chris that wants to see Peter fucked, wants to see him laid open. But there's a much bigger part drowning that side out.

_"Why? Because he's mine. And you were dead the moment you touched him."_

It's over before it really starts, before the three idiots calling themselves hunters even realise Chris is there. Chris has surprise and experience and sobriety on his side, as he lifts his tranq gun and aims. But more than that, he has the core of red hot anger burning low in his belly. These men dared to touch something that wasn't theirs, that would never be theirs. Peter Hale has already been claimed by a hunter, even if the wolf doesn't know it yet.

_"And you're saying you don't know anything about the two burned out trucks with the pretty much unrecognisable bodies in them, Chris?"_

_"That's exactly what I'm saying, Sheriff."_

The fire catches quickly, the combination of alcohol and spilled gasoline igniting the trucks and sealing the fate of the three men inside them. Chris hesitates for a brief moment before hefting Peter up and over his shoulder, staggering slightly under Peter's build.

Peter's still unconscious, whatever cocktail of ingredients he's had pumped into him still mixing in his bloodstream. It would be so easy, Chris thinks. So easy to slide Peter's jeans down over his ass and fuck the wolf. Chris' cock is throbbing, the scent of smoke and blood pushing the adrenaline through his veins. Peter would never know. He'd wake up, never realising what Chris had done, how Chris had finally physically claimed Peter as his.

And that's the thing. Chris _wants_ Peter to know. He wants Peter under him, wide eyed and writhing, and fucking _begging_ for Chris' dick. Whatever mark he puts on Peter, he wants Peter to wear with the pride and arrogance the wolf has running through every inch of his body.

Carrying Peter back to his SUV, Chris settles him in the passenger seat and starts the drive back to Derek's.

_"You'll be the fucking death of me, Hale."_

Chris' hand is down his jeans as soon as the door is to his apartment is shut behind him. All it takes is a few strokes and Chris is coming, white running over his fingers, as he closes his eyes and imagines Peter's lips stretched wide around him. Wiping his hand on his jeans, he wanders through into the kitchen, loosely tucking himself away. The message that buzzes onto his phone tells him that the others have got back to the loft, and that Peter's already starting to come around, that he should be back to his usual asshole self by tomorrow. Chris can't wait.

_"Christopher, I think we need to talk."_

_"Well, then, Peter, you'd better come in."_


End file.
